


advice, again

by serendipitiness



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Magnus Bane & Ragnor Fell Friendship, Magnus Bane/Camille Belcourt (mentioned) - Freeform, POV Ragnor Fell, Supportive Ragnor Fell, takes place sometime in the 1800s, who just wants Magnus to be happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 11:21:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20814299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitiness/pseuds/serendipitiness
Summary: Ragnor might not really be one for romance on his own, but over the smoke of a cigar and a seaside breeze, he talks to his dearest friend on love, not for the first time and certainly not for the last.





	advice, again

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [sh_ficletinstruments](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/sh_ficletinstruments) collection. 

It’s quiet, outside.

It’s quiet the way nature is, which is to say it isn’t quiet at all. It’s the kind of cacophony that Ragnor savors -- the crash of waves, the squawk of seagulls, the rustle of grass blown by the wind. And coupled with the taste of smoke in his throat and the company he’s keeping, it’s something of an ideal day for him.

Not for Magnus, it seems.

On the other side of the table, his friend is staring out across the water, a deep furrow between his brows. His frock coat hangs off his chairback, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he takes another puff of his cigar. His other hand twitches, thumb rubbing absently on his fourth finger.

“Magnus,” Ragnor says, concerned. “Are you -- are you thinking of marrying her?”

Magnus startles, his eyes going wide. “S-sorry?”

“I know you heard me, my friend.”

Ragnor watches as Magnus turns his face away, fist clenching atop the table. He looks uncertain, the opposite of the man he is when he’s listening to a grand tune at the opera, or conversing with Catarina and Dorothea over bottles of rich wine, or explaining his new-fangled teleportation experiment.

“I don’t know,” Magnus says softly. “I confess that I think of it. Of becoming a family with Camille. But then…”

Ragnor frowns. “Is that ‘but’ not the answer, then?”

Magnus smiles ruefully. “I know you do not like her, but she’s helped me in so many ways. She can be good for me sometimes.”

“I do not dislike her without basis, Magnus. My objections only exist because you deserve better than _ sometimes_.”

Magnus raises his cigar to his mouth, then exhales, letting the smoke waft out from between his lips to drift across his face.

“I want you to be happy, you know I do,” Ragnor continues. “But I wonder, perhaps, if you do not draw too much from the lives of mortals who tie themselves to one partner for their entire existences. You are a man who loves ferociously, who should receive that in turn, who deserves the joys of family and marriage. But to find that with another immortal? One who has been hardened to stone by the passage of centuries?”

“I know,” Magnus answers despondently. “It is stupid.”

“It is not, Magnus. You are not. But you must see your own worth and worthiness for someone more loyal and sweet to you.”

“Perhaps.” He looks doubtful.

“I am certain. And I will remind you as many times as I must to knock that into your thick skull.”

Magnus smiles, truly this time, and shakes his head in Ragnor’s direction. “You are too good to me. To invite me to your cottage, offer your best cigars, and guide me in my errant love life, all on this day?”

Ragnor laughs, and settles back in his chair to let the sun hit his face. “It’s the only way worth spending it.”

“Happy birthday, Ragnor.”

“Thank you, my friend.”


End file.
